Breakdown
by elisheva
Summary: A case really hits the team.


**A/N: **I'm back! With new ideas! But I still, sadly, do not own anything to do with The Mentalist or its rights. Sorry. Enjoy!

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We all sat, gathered around the desk holding the pizza boxes that signified a case-closing party, though none of us felt it was much of one. Even Rigsby, our constant enjoyer of food, could only choke down one slice.

The case itself was a hard one to deal with. A family had their three boys, all under the age of ten, ripped from them, massacred, and found tossed in a dump site three miles away from the home like they were nothing but day old newspaper.

The revelation of the actual murderer was so horrifying even Jane felt no joy in scheming to end the case.

I looked around at my team and sighed. "Alright, guys, shake it off," I told them gently. "It's been a long couple of days. Go home and relax. We'll fridge this pizza. I'm sure someone-"I glanced pointedly at Rigsby- "will eat it later."

I received a smile from them for that then Van Pelt, Cho, and Rigsby all said their goodbyes and headed out together. Jane, as I thought he would, stood from his perch and helped me clean up the evidence of the dismal celebration.

Once we were in the kitchenette on our floor he spoke softly. "Don't think it. They still needed the time to dissimilate and needed the normality of the case-closer, even if no one felt like a party."

I glared up at him even as I knew that would just confirm the fact that he read my thoughts correctly. Then I sighed again and turned to lean against the counter, arms crossed. "I know we always have this to congratulate ourselves on a job well-done. But this time it feels like a mockery."

Jane chose to lean his hip into the counter to face me. "Regardless of the details, you brought a killer to justice, Lisbon."

"Justice?" I spit out the word. "Those babies are still dead. There's no justice in that. There's no justice in the mother being locked away in a mental hospital on suicide watch knowing every day nothing will bring back her sons. Knowing every day the man she loved and trusted killed them all and just left them to rot. And for what, Jane? Some alone time when he got home from work so he could watch TV without three beautiful angels clamoring all over him, excited he's home, loving their daddy?"

I didn't realize I was yelling until the silence after my rant echoed in my ears. I looked into Jane's face and just saw understanding and a hint of anger that mirrored mine. My body started shaking so I wrapped my arms around myself tighter, wanting to keep my control until I made it home to cry under the shower, but one tear escaped.

Jane reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, disregarding the fact that I flinched away. Then he gently placed his hands on my shoulders and started to pull me into his embrace.

"No," I managed, trying to get my hands on his chest to push him away. I didn't want comfort. I didn't want to breakdown. Not here. Not with him. _Especially_ not with him, a man who seemed to thrive in knowing my every thought, move, weakness and holding it over my head. "Let me go, damnit," I growled, but the tears, so close to the edge, clouded my voice.

He paid no attention, placing one hand on the back of my head and gently moving it to the crook of his neck, before it joined the other, wrapping me in a warm hug. "Shh, it's ok, Lisbon. Just let it out or it will eat you up inside."

"I can't," I told him, trying once more to struggle. He just held me closer.

I felt him place his cheek on the top of my head. "It's ok," he repeated, softly. "You're safe with me, Teresa."

It was either those last words or the use of my first name but my body relaxed against him against my will. Through my sobs I stammered out, "How could he?" over and over while he rubbed my back soothingly.

Finally, the tears slowed and I realized my hands were now clutching Jane's shirt. Shifting slightly I saw also the little make up I had on was now on his clothes. I chuckled a little as he released me completely. "I guess I'll go home now," I told him as I tried to ungracefully wipe off my face. "Thanks, Jane."

He gave me his full-fledged patented Jane grin. "It beats crying in the shower, huh!"

I scowled, truce over. "Up yours," I told him before stomping to my office to gather my things.

It wasn't until I was almost asleep, still stewing at how easily he could see through me that I realized he had managed to anger me to distraction- something he probably planned all along.


End file.
